


Anticipation

by kcstories



Series: Cedric/Fleur Triwizard AU for rarepair_shorts [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 4th Year, Canon Divergence, Community: rarepair_shorts, F/M, Hogwarts Era, Triwizard Tournament
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-11
Updated: 2007-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-15 05:42:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8044573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kcstories/pseuds/kcstories
Summary: Anxiously anticipating the start of the first Task.





	Anticipation

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** The Potterverse is JKR's, not mine.

The Beauxbatons Champion looks pale and worried, sitting there on that small, narrow stool. She's waiting, just like the rest of us, anxiously anticipating the start of the first Task.  
  
I can tell she's trying her utmost to appear confident and collected. She definitely wouldn't want to lose her composure in our presence, but it's clearly just a front. She wouldn't be at least partly human if she weren't at all scared.  
  
I guess they weren't joking about the dragons, not judging by that angry, ominous roar I can hear outside the tent. Come to think of it, even Fudge looks kind of nervous.  
  
Potter steps closer and says something to me. I don't quite catch most of it, but I nod in agreement anyway.  
  
I have an inkling he'll do well; if only because he's Harry Potter, the boy who lived to be phenomenally lucky, and people rarely beat him at anything, even though my father keeps reminding everyone that I managed it once, much to my annoyance and general embarrassment when I consider the real circumstances.  
  
I feel my gaze drawn to her again. I can see her pale, slender hands tremble, just slightly, just for a moment, before she shoves them in her pockets quickly, with just a fraction of her usual elegance, so no one would notice.  
  
She's very proud, wants to appear strong, and I can only admire her for that.  
  
Nevertheless, I feel compelled to reassure her, despite the fact that she mightn't appreciate it, for I've been told she has something of an attitude too and isn't always friendly to fellows who approach her.  
  
But then I reckon that she must get hassled a lot and has to put up with quite a bit of harassment; looking as stunning as she does. That, and the inheritance she didn't choose that draws men to her in droves.  
  
I gather my courage (funny how suddenly a dragon doesn't seem _quite_ as threatening) and I walk over to where she's seated.  
  
When I stand in front of her, she looks up at me, a questioning gaze reflected in her beautiful blue eyes.  
  
"Bonne chance, Mademoiselle Delacour," I say, hoping my pronunciation isn't too far off, and I suddenly wonder why they don't teach us any foreign languages around here. A regular, modern English-French dictionary is harder to come by in a School for Witchcraft and Wizardry than one might expect.  
  
"Merci, Cédric," she says, leaving me stunned at her use of my first name, and then flattered she even remembers it, and I think I'd like to see more of that dazzling smile from now on.


End file.
